


[vore] Once More For Good Measure

by wolfbunny



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Non-fatal vore, Oral Vore, Soft Vore, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, Swapfell Papyrus/Underswap Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Vore, Warning: Vore, because it may affect your decision whether to read this or not, blueberry is not okay, blueberry is such a considerate prey, everyone is either sad or dead :3, i'm gonna spoil the ending in the tags here, many mentions, mentions of past fatal unwilling vore, safe vore, willing vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny
Summary: All the skeletons are either sad or dead.Blueberry is suddenly struck with an idea.





	[vore] Once More For Good Measure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216219) by [DeckofDragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeckofDragons/pseuds/DeckofDragons). 



> Since the story this is based on contains more different kinds of NSFW content, I’ll provide a summary here for readers who might need it. Either way, spoilers for the entire story of “Kidnapped” and “Again,” so you should read those first if you are okay with the content, because I am about to spoil all the exciting plot twists :3 Bare bones summary (hahaha, bare bones): Stretch (US Paps) is evil. He eats Razz (SF Sans) because he’s an evil jerk. He enjoys it so much that he later arranges to eat Red (UF Sans) and Fell (UF Paps). However, after he’s eaten Red, Blueberry (US Sans) stumbles upon Fell and frees him. Fell kills Stretch. Everyone is either sad or dead. Fell, Blueberry, and Slim (SF Paps) can’t stay in their homes with the memories of their brothers, so they decide to go somewhere else.

 

  
“Slim! How many times have I asked you to at least put the dishes on the table and not the floor?!” Fell fumed as he picked up the offending glass. Sprawled on the couch, Slim grunted noncommittally but didn’t otherwise respond.

Next to him, Blueberry felt a pang of nostalgia. He remembered saying the same thing to his—to Stretch. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was only a matter of months. “You don’t have to yell at him, Fell,” he said, perhaps a bit more snappishly than he meant to. “He’s been through a lot.”

“I know!” Fell towered over them. “But it’s not good for him to wallow in sadness forever. It’s not good for either of you!”

“I’m not wallowing!” Blueberry sat up straight in outrage. He did a lot of things around the house! And outside the house! “Maybe I have some off days, but we can’t all be so unaffected by—by—” He remembered the unpleasant fact that Fell had been the one to kill Stretch. He didn’t blame Fell; he would have done the same if their positions were reversed. He mentally apologized to Red for even conceiving of that scenario.

Fell narrowed his eyes, dangerously calm. “You think I’m unaffected?”

Blueberry looked up at him. He and Fell bickered all the time, as they were both loud and opinionated and sometimes had very different ideas of how things should be done, but it was all friendly quarreling. This felt different. None of this really seemed real, anyway. What did it matter? “You don’t even wear his jacket anymore,” he mumbled, half hoping Fell wouldn’t hear him.

“That! Is because I want to keep it in good condition!” Fell gesticulated. “And! The monsters here are incredibly nosy! No matter how intimidating my glare, they always ask about …” He trailed off, then threw up his hands. “Fine! Spend the rest of your lives moping about it. Someone has to be responsible around here!”

Blueberry felt tears welling up in his eyes. He was the one who should be responsible. He was the one who was most responsible for what happened. It had been his brother that… If anyone should be taking care of the other two skeletons, it was him.

Fell faltered on seeing the tears, but continued. “If it takes an emotional outburst to convince you that I care about Sans, then perhaps this will suffice!” He slammed the empty glass onto the table, stomped to the front door, and left, slamming it behind him.

Blueberry stared after him for a moment, then slid off the couch without looking at Slim and retreated to his room.

***

There was a knock on the door. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, Blueberry didn’t answer it. It wasn’t locked, though, and after a moment, Slim opened the door and entered his room.

“Hey,” he said. “You, uh … okay?”

“Hey Slim,” Blueberry said, not answering the question.

“What’s that you’ve got?”

Blueberry looked down at his hands as if he was just as surprised to see the little bottle of blue liquid as Slim. It took him a second to answer.

“It’s what my—what Pa—It’s what … Stretch used … on …”

Slim froze for a moment, then asked softly, “You kept that?”

Blueberry kept his eyelights focused on the little bottle. “Yeah, I … Sometimes I can’t believe it really happened, but with this I have proof.”

Slim sighed and sat down on the bed next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Blueberry sat in silence for a moment. “The pink one I couldn’t bear to touch, but this one, it’s not—it’s not inherently evil, it just—it could be used for good if—if—”

“I see what ya mean,” Slim agreed. “Maybe you could donate it to science if ya didn’t—”

“You should eat me,” Blueberry interrupted him.

“What?”

“You should eat me,” Blueberry repeated, surging up onto his knees and taking hold of Slim’s humeri. “It makes sense. My brother did it to your brother. Fell got his revenge, but you never got to. But you still can, don’t you see? You can do to him what he did to you, even if he isn’t here.” It made so much sense. And maybe Stretch—maybe Papy was really the one responsible, but now that he was … dead … Blueberry was clearly the monster that bore the most responsibility for everything that had happened.

Slim pulled back. Blueberry hung desperately onto his arms, still clutching the bottle. Slim carefully pried the smaller skeleton’s phalanges off of his sleeves. Blueberry had stopped wearing gloves ever since they’d been contaminated with Stretch’s dust. Slim firmly pushed him back into a kneeling position on the bed. Blueberry stayed where Slim put him, but kept pleading with his eyes.

Slim’s expression was unreadable as he met Blueberry’s gaze. “Okay,” he said.

“What?”

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Slim was relaxed, casual—just like always—while Blueberry’s soul was pounding, and he couldn’t tell if it was distress or anticipation. He couldn’t quite believe Slim had agreed to it. He couldn’t quite believe he’d proposed it in the first place! Better to act than to think about it, now that it was decided. He hopped off the bed and retrieved the pipette Stretch had used, which he’d also saved.

“I should probably get undressed first,” he said, blushing a little. The serum wouldn’t affect clothes, so he might as well spare Slim the task of fishing him out of a pile of fabric after he’d shrunk.

Slim gave a small nod, watching impassively. Blueberry didn’t see any point in telling him to look away. They were about to get a lot more intimate. Setting the bottle and pipette on the bed in front of Slim, he slipped off his signature blue bandanna and looked at it for a moment. It was so tied up with his identity—maybe Slim would want to keep it?

Oh well, it was no business of Blueberry’s what happened to the bandanna after he was gone. He folded it up and placed it on the bed, followed by the rest of his clothes, folded increasingly haphazardly as his hands started trembling more noticeably.

Focusing on the task of getting undressed had calmed him a little bit, but as he finished, the reality of what he was doing hit him again. A drop of sweat ran down his skull as he looked up at Slim again. The taller skeleton was impassive as ever. Blueberry took out his soul. Slim’s eyes widened just a little at the sight.

Blueberry reached for the pipette and bottle. His hands were shaking worse than ever—he couldn’t apply the serum like this; he would probably spill the whole thing. He focused on breathing slower, relaxing, focusing on his immediate task and not the larger context.

It helped. Finally he felt confident enough to open the bottle and pull up some of the liquid with the pipette. How fast would the serum work? He closed the bottle now and set it aside on top of the stack of his clothes.

He pulled himself onto the bed again. No sense in making Slim reach all the way to the floor to pick him up, and if he dropped the pipette it would land on something soft. He held the pipette over his soul and squeezed out a generous drop. It was cold on his soul, which absorbed it instantly. Almost immediately, the room around him shifted into a disorienting blur, and when he recovered, he found the blanket was vast like a football field, and Slim was towering over him even more than usual.

Blueberry trembled harder than ever as Slim reached down and picked him up. He was gentle enough—there was no need to hold Blueberry tight if he wasn’t trying to escape or fight back. Blueberry imagined that the other two Sanses must have gone through worse, been handled more roughly, even discounting the—the pink serum. It was too awful to think about. But that was why he had to do this.

Slim lifted him up to face level, a trifling distance to the sharp-toothed skeleton but a dizzying rush for Blueberry at this size. He waited politely for Blueberry to gather his wits and meet his gaze. “Are ya scared?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Blueberry. His voice was barely a squeak. He nodded his skull for good measure, in case Slim couldn’t hear him.

Slim grunted in acknowledgment. His expression was distant as usual, not angry, not eager, not particularly anything. He opened his mouth, manifesting his deep orange tongue. Blueberry stared into the depths, no longer shaking, almost hypnotized.

Slim turned and tilted his hand to let Blueberry slide in feet first, lying on his front. Blueberry squeaked wordlessly in terror as his bones touched the soft wet surface of the tongue. Slim let him lie there a moment, the tremors returning as Blueberry processed his situation. He was about to be swallowed, pulled down to his death, and he’d brought this about himself. This view of his room framed by Slim’s teeth was the last thing he would see aside from Slim’s magic surrounding him, draining him, absorbing him. It was too late to back out now.

He gasped as the magic flesh around him convulsed, tongue pushing him deeper, walls of the throat taking hold of his feet, pulling him partway into the snug tunnel leading down into Slim’s body.

Slim swallowed again, and now he was in up to the middle of his ribs, warm magical flesh pressing against him from all sides. It wasn’t unpleasant, really, if you forgot what it meant. He closed his eyes in surrender as Slim finally gulped him down.

Soon enough he came to rest in Slim’s stomach. Burnt orange magic glowed all around him. He knew from Fell’s account that he would be in here for some time—hours and hours. He shuddered at the prospect. But it was no less than he deserved after failing Razz and Red and most importantly, Papy. Now that he was alone, and dying, he could be completely honest with himself. Papy had been the most important to him, and he’d failed to set him on the right path, failed even to notice he was going astray, and failed him again by letting him die. He pulled himself into a sitting position. “Papy,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow. Nobody could see or hear him in here.

Blueberry could feel the magic draining out of him, slowly, barely a trickle, but constant. It wasn’t that noticeable, but he knew to expect it. He wondered if it had bothered Red and Razz. Maybe they’d been too distracted; Stretch had eaten and drunk other things while they had been in there, he knew, from the rare occasions when Slim had talked about the day his brother die—disappeared. No, died. This was death and there was no point in tiptoeing around it. He was going to die in the same way Razz had.

More or less. Slim probably wouldn’t torment him with food and drink. Blueberry’s magic should be filling enough. Then again, Fell might wonder why Slim wasn’t eating anything. On the other hand, it wasn’t unrealistic for Slim to be too depressed to eat for a day or so. Blueberry didn’t relish the thought of chewed-up food raining down on him and being churned into mush around him. Maybe they should have talked about this a little more before putting it into action.

It didn’t matter, though. He deserved to go through everything the others had. The stomach walls rumbled around him, trying to soften him up just like any other piece of food. He shuddered again, hugging his knees to his chest and settling in for a long and miserable wait. Tears dripped slowly but constantly from his skull. Maybe he should force himself to stop crying, conserve that magic, draw it out longer. But perhaps he could forgive himself this one small mercy, reducing the total time he had to endure this by leaking magic out that little bit faster.

It was hard to keep track of time. He didn’t feel any motion beyond the occasional restlessness of the stomach walls. Slim must just be sitting there. Blueberry hoped he was, if not exactly enjoying his revenge, getting some satisfaction from it. What would Papy have thought if he’d been alive to see this? Would he have even cared, given how awful he’d turned out to be, how rotten he’d been in his core? Yes, Blueberry thought. Despite the whole terrible side of his brother that he’d never seen, he still would have been horrified to see Blueberry eaten, and even moreso that Blueberry had asked for this, because of something Papy had done. Blueberry curled up tighter, tears flowing faster. Did that mean he’d failed Papy yet again? Just another entry on the list of his sins.

Eventually his tears slowed again. Maybe he didn’t have the magic to spare. He must have been in here for a couple hours by now. Maybe more. He was sure he felt weaker, with so much magic being drained out of him. He felt a strange sense of accomplishment at having made it this far. Maybe he was even halfway there—surely a third of the way, at least.

Even though the drain had him feeling incredibly lethargic, he shifted a little to make himself more comfortable. And suddenly the stomach walls disappeared. Terror gripped him. Had Fell found out and—and dusted Slim, to save him? Had Blueberry killed yet another skeleton with his lack of planning and foresight? Please, please, no, let Slim be okay, he was the only one who was innocent in all of this—the only one still alive, at least—

He fell onto bone, onto phalanges—whose hand? There was no dust that he could see. He clung to the metacarpals as the hand moved, forced to shut his eyes against the dizzying motion, and when he opened them he saw a sharp-toothed face looming giant in front of him. One tooth was gold. It was Slim.

Blueberry stared at him, surprised. “What happened?”

“Whaddaya mean what happened?” Slim’s voice was booming at this distance, at this size. “You asked me to do that, remember?”

“I know that. I mean, why am I out here again? Why didn’t you … leave me?”

“What? You think I’m gonna—do that to you, when you’re one o’ my closest friends, the only skeleton in the multiverse that reminds me so much of my brother, and ya didn’t even do anything wrong?” Slim’s casual attitude finally cracked a little. “Blueberry, d’you think I’m a murderer or somethin’?”

“No!” Blueberry protested. It wasn’t murder. It was assisted suicide. He stopped himself from saying that, though. “I just thought … it wouldn’t be more than what I deserve …”

Slim brought up his other hand to cup protectively around the miniaturized skeleton. “Blueberry. Why d’you think I agreed to do this?”

Blueberry looked up at him, wide-eyed, another tear tracing the well-established track down his cheekbone.

“I thought it was your way of coping. I know ya feel really guilty about what your—about everything that happened. And I thought maybe, it would be, y’know, cathartic.”

Blueberry leaned against his phalanges, putting his arm around one as if hugging it. “I … It all seemed so perfect. You’d finally get some revenge, and I’d get what I deserved.”

Slim’s brow furrowed. “Ya really thought I would … just leave ya in there? Until ya dusted?”

Blueberry clung tighter to the phalange. The size difference made Slim considerably intimidating, especially when he looked angry. “I’m—I’m sorry!” He sobbed again. “I—I didn’t realize—I’ve done something horrible to you, haven’t I?”

Slim’s expression softened. “Well, that’s okay. I shoulda made my intentions more clear, too. You musta been really scared.”

Blueberry looked away. “At first, yeah, but …” He dissolved into tears again.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Slim carefully stroked his skull with the tip of one phalange. “How are your magic levels? I hope I didn’t leave ya in there too long.”

Blueberry sniffed. “No, I’m fine. I mean, they’re low but nothing serious.”

“How long until the shrinking thing wears off?”

“Um. I have no idea.” If Stretch had tested it on anyone he didn’t kill, he hadn’t written down the result anywhere Blueberry had found. A sudden fear gripped him. “I hope it’s not permanent.”

“We really shoulda thought this through better.” They exchanged a look of alarm.

“BLUEBERRY, ARE YOU IN HERE? I’m sorry about earliWHAT THE HELL? WHAT IN STARS’ NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, SLIM?”

Both skeletons looked up as Fell burst into the room. “No, Fell, no, it’s okay! Don’t panic!” Blueberry waved his arms placatingly. Slim froze, unable to do the same without dropping the smaller skeleton.

Fell’s eye glowed with crimson flame. “YOU HAD BOTH BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS!”

The pair exchanged a guilty glance.

“I dunno if it’s a good explanation,” said Slim, “but there’s definitely an explanation.”

“It’s all my fault, don’t be mad at Slim!” Blueberry pleaded.

Fell’s eye dimmed and he folded his arms. “I’M LISTENING.”

Blueberry laughed nervously, looking at Slim and then back to Fell. “Um. It’s a kind of, therapy through … swallowing?”

“YOU’RE RIGHT. THAT IS NOT A GOOD EXPLANATION.” Fell’s eye brightened a shade.

“Well, maybe, but if it works …” Blueberry shrugged.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Blueberry should repeat this therapeutic treatment frequently :3


End file.
